Seemingly pleased that he had been able to fluster both of them to the point of speechlessness, Sean gave a cheeky salute and headed back to his office. “My work here is done. Good luck with that meeting, guys. You two kids have fun.”

“What the hell was that all about?” Lexi prayed Vincent hadn’t picked up on Sean’s teasing.

“I have no idea, but I’m guessing you’re not worried about the meeting anymore.” He shifted in place, still clutching the jacket in front of him.

“Screw the meeting. Sean’s scarier than Marradesi any day.”

Vincent laughed and relaxed, wrapping the jacket over her shoulders. Lexi grabbed her bag and tucked the files safely inside. “Ready to go?” she asked.

The picture of confidence, Vincent placed his hand on the small of her back and began leading her toward the elevator. “Absolutely. Let’s do this.”

When they pulled up to Bravo, the valets all whistled as Lexi’s car rolled to a stop. A group of them crowded around, all wanting to get a better look at the classic automobile. Lexi had let Vincent drive, keeping her promise and figuring it would be a good idea to keep him as relaxed as possible. Nothing put a smile on his face like driving fast.

“What’s the horsepower on this?”

“You the original owner?”

“Who did the restoration?”

The young men peppered Vincent with questions as he climbed out of the driver’s side door. Vincent made his way around the car to take Lexi’s hand. “It isn’t mine. It’s the lady’s. You’ll have to ask her.”

Lexi smiled and began answering the litany of questions. “Four hundred horsepower engine last time I checked, but my mechanic likes to tweak

things without telling me, so it’s probably more by now. My father was the original owner, and Hope Greyson over at the Crowbar did the restoration.

Now if you’ll excuse us, we have a lunch date.” With a flip of her hair, she headed toward the restaurant.

Vincent glanced over at the valets and found them all staring at the gentle sway of her hips. He turned darkly to the men. “And Bob,” he said, reading one of the gawkers’ nametag, “if anything happens to her car, I’m holding you personally responsible. Do we understand each other?”

A small tug on his arm drew his attention back to Lexi. “You didn’t have to threaten the guy,” she said with a laugh.

Vincent chuckled when he heard Bob demand to be the one to park the car since “his ass was on the line for it,” and he knew her car would be well taken care of while they ate.

Inside the restaurant, they felt like they were standing in a plaza in the middle of Italy. The rough cobblestone floor and rich colors of the fabrics were authentic in a homey, rustic way. Music played, and people spoke in Italian at every turn. Each element added to the experience.

“Mr. Drake, Miss White, buon giorno. Benvenuto al Bravo,” a stocky man with short black hair said with a slight bow. “I’m Angelo. Allow me to show you to Mr. Marradesi’s table. They just arrived as well.”

Angelo led them through the restaurant, pointing out different antiques that his grandmother asked him to bring over from Italy. Lexi stopped twice to take a closer look at some of the family photographs. Her bright smile and genuine interest in what Angelo was saying endeared her to him immediately. He tucked her under his arm and gave her the full tour. Vincent followed behind them, smiling.

The aromas wafting through the air were mouth-watering. The trio passed large groups of people sharing everything on the table, from pasta to chicken and veal dishes. Employees breezed by with large trays of pizza in their hands, the cheese still bubbling. The garlic smelled like heaven.

The atmosphere was one of laughter and the clinking of glasses. It felt more like a relative’s house than a restaurant, which was no small feat considering the size of the place. It seemed as if the rooms went on forever, yet the ambiance remained cozy.

Angelo led them to a private table situated at the back of the restaurant with no one else seated nearby. Paolo and Francesca sat beside one another at the large, round table. His arm was thrown around the back of her chair as she smiled and whispered something to him. Dante sat on the other side of Francesca and was talking to the wine steward. The steward nodded his head in agreement and then stepped aside so Angelo could seat Vincent and Lexi.

“Vincent, Lexi!” Paolo rose to his feet, shaking Vincent’s hand and then kissing both of Lexi’s cheeks. “Welcome to Bravo. It’s wonderful to see you again, Vincent. You remember my wife, Francesca?” The gorgeous woman gracefully stood up from her seat and demurely offered Vincent her hand.

“Mrs. Marradesi, it’s a pleasure to see you again. You look beautiful as ever.”

She threw her head back and laughed. “Ah, Vincent Drake. Such a charmer. I told you before, please call me Francesca. ” Her hand came up and gave his cheek a playful pat. Then she turned her attention to Lexi and offered her a warm smile. “Lexi, darling, come va?” Her hands clasped around Lexi’s as she pulled her close and kissed her cheeks.

“Very nice to meet you, Mrs. Marradesi.”

“Francesca,” she corrected Lexi with a smile. “I meant to tell you at the gala, your dress was extraordinary.”

Vincent’s hand found the small of Lexi’s back and pressed gently, encouraging her to relax.

Even though she was not good at taking compliments, especially from someone as well known in the fashion world as Francesca Marradesi, she adapted. “Thank you very much, Francesca. It was my mother’s.”

“And you both remember my brother.” Dante simply stood up and gave a little nod to welcome both Lexi and Vincent before returning to his seat beside Francesca.

Vincent reached for the chair next to Dante and held it for Lexi, allowing him to sit between her and Paolo.

“Welcome to Bravo. My nephew has planned a wonderful dining experience for us. I hope you’re hungry.” Pride filled Paolo’s voice as he smiled up at Angelo.

“This is a fantastic restaurant. How long have you been open?” Vincent asked as he took in the small details of the room, like the wrought iron accents and the gorgeous fresco on the wall beside their table.

“Four months,” Angelo said, beaming.

“My nephew designed everything from floor to ceiling. He based the decor on my mother’s house in Sicily, and a number of the recipes that we will be enjoying are hers. You must try the spicy calamari salad. It was her specialty.”




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